Set Free
by Battus philenor
Summary: GS - Unbound challenge response, only longer!


Title: Set Free

Author: Battus philenor

Disclaimer: They're still not mine and that makes me very angry.

A/N: This has spoilers up through everything that has aired in the states so far. This is an Unbound challenge response, where 1st and last lines are given. I totally disregarded the word limit in this one. Thanks to Marlou for permission to blow said word limit (she has that power, along with many others), and to Carmen (who has many powers of her own) for the quick beta work.

She suppressed a shudder as the steel barred door clanged close behind her. Visiting the prison which her mother had called home for the previous twenty-something years was an experience she'd never given a passing thought to. Hearing of her stroke had been a shock, but she'd stayed strong during the phone call from the Warden. Sara wasn't about to cry for that weak excuse of a woman, not on the phone to a stranger anyway. But, to visit the place where she had lived, she just couldn't stop the chills or the tears at that point.

The beeps, blips, and suction noises were enough to give her a headache. Sara had never imagined sitting in the ICU, not for her mother anyway. Thoughts occasionally passed through her brain about visiting somebody in a hospital one day, a co-worker or an old foster parent, but not visiting her mother, who looked nothing like she remembered.

Uncomfortably perched in the institutional orange plastic chair, she was tucked into the corner among the machinery which was maintaining her mother's life. The items performing the most basic bodily functions for her mother were now Sara's camouflage, not that there was any need to hide from her now, not anymore.

She marked the time by counting the constant gushes of air being forced into her lungs from the breathing machine. Absently breaking down the number of breathes every minute and hour; she wondered what had ever possessed her mother to have her as her emergency contact.

Watching the needle which had been placed on the back of her hand, Sara counted the pieces of tape holding it in place, repeatedly; inanely inspecting them from the comfort of her corner. Concentrating on the tear marks, wondering which had come off the roll first. She just figured it out when a machine began to beep, a long constant beep which brought more than a few people running into the room.

The arm slipping around her shoulders startled her at first, and her slight jump caused that arm to pause momentarily. As it continued again on its course to encircling her, his warmth could be felt instantly as his firm grip also steadied her. Thinking back, Sara couldn't be sure why she'd called Grissom with the news, but she did and she was more than a little shocked when he insisted on making the trip to the Central California Women's Facility with her.

Standing there now with his arm around her Grissom found himself hoping she didn't feel that he was taking advantage of the situation. He didn't want to be thought of as the lecherous friend who tried to insert himself into her life at this most awkward and vulnerable time. And as the thought began to weigh heavy on him, Sara shifted and turned into him. What had started as a strong shoulder for support, both physical and mental, had suddenly turned into a hug of sorts as her mother died across the room.

The medical staff filed out of the room as Sara's arms wrapped around his body, and she laid her head on his shoulder, a dampness soaking through his too thin shirt. With no thought at all, his arms surrounded her, squeezing and comforting without any effort as if they had a mind of their own. She snuggled closer as his head leaned down; taking in the fragrance of her shampoo he placed a kiss on her head before whispering to her that everything would be alright. That he would be there for her, not leaving her side for as long as she needed him.

Sara cringed internally, knowing those words were not given in the same token as she wanted to receive them. Tears for a mother that she didn't want to remember, turned into tears for a love she didn't want to lose. A man she'd never wanted to need, but somehow ended up doing so anyway.

Guilt racked her body then as she realized how quickly her mind left this woman she should care more about. And as her tears dried up she shakily removed herself form Grissom's arms.

Watching her, Grissom thought she looked almost unsure of how to act anymore. The tears were gone, and she kept glancing at her mother who laid there motionless. He saw her eyes squinting and her pursing her lips as if in thought.

Unsure of what to say, Grissom started slowly, only wanting to ease her confusion. "Sara, whatever you're feeling, it's ok."

Looking up at Grissom again, Sara took a deep breath, trembling slightly as she appeared to struggle for words. Watching her search for her voice, Grissom worried that he wouldn't have the right words in response.

"I'm not feeling anything right now, other than relief. It's awful Grissom, but that's what I feel." Sara stood looking at him guiltily. "It's finally over," she breathed out.

Grissom saw Sara's expression and worried she would be sick. She then took another deep breath and her color started to reappear. "I want to make the arrangements as soon as possible, Grissom, I want to move forward."

"We can do that, Sara." Grissom offered, hoping he wasn't intruding somewhere she didn't want him to be. Relief washed over him when she carried on, apparently oblivious of his use of the word we.

"And then, I think I want to take a few more days off," she paused, looking at him with wide eyes, "if that's ok I mean."

"Sara, I've urged you to use some of your well deserved vacation time for months now." He smiled, not wanting to sound like a domineering boss.

Looking back over her shoulder she ran her eyes up her mother's thin frame to her face. "You know, she really doesn't look much like I remembered her. I mean I know that dying your hair isn't a priority in prison, but I just didn't think she'd have aged so much." Sara said softly, sadly.

"How long had it been, since you'd seen her?" Grissom asked quietly, respectfully trying not to intrude.

"Oh, God Grissom, I haven't seen her since I graduated college. That was the last time I visited. I wanted her to know what I'd accomplished, and what I was going to be, despite everything that had happened, you know?" Turning to look at him again, her eyebrows were raised, waiting for his acknowledgement.

He bobbed his head in understanding and she turned back around for one more look at the woman lying with tubes and machines still hooked up to her. Grissom noticed how the woman lying there looked nothing like Sara.

Even more so than the physical features, she just didn't have the spark that her daughter did. It had nothing to do with her being dead, he could tell that any spark that may have been there had vanished long before her death. Maybe it was prison that took it away, or maybe it was the years of living in their household before the fateful incident that did it, but she hadn't had that spark in years. Grissom found himself thankful that Sara's spark hadn't been extinguished the night that her father's life had ended.

With one final deep breath, Sara nodded her head once toward her mother in a final goodbye. She turned back around to face Grissom, seeing his brow furrowed in thought she asked, "You okay, Grissom?"

"Oh yeah, are you okay?" He asked smiling slightly.

"Yeah, I think I am, now. I really think I am." She repeated while smiling back at him and seemed to silently pull herself back together.

"So, I'll make the arrangements, and then…" she was looking at him, hoping the offer to take a few days off still existed.

"Really Sara, you're out here in California, away for a family emergency…" he said slowly as he raised his eyebrows trying to prod her into his line of thinking.

"Are you suggesting I milk this, Grissom?" Sara gasped dramatically as Grissom shrugged before placing his arm around her shoulder once again.

"Well coincidently, I'm officially away for a family emergency as well…"

"Grissom! You want to play hooky with me? Man, get you in this California air, and you're a totally new person." Sara smiled as she leaned into his body, enjoying his arm holding her tight.

"Well, nobody will know we're playing hooky as long as we don't tell them, Sara."

Looking up at him again, she smiled before replying with her solemn oath, "I Sara Sidle will never tell that myself and Gil Grissom played hooky… together."

Grissom couldn't help but enjoy her contagious smile. His eyes twinkling with mischief, he leaned in and kissed her.

End

Battus philenor


End file.
